The Other First Contact
by swampghost1
Summary: It has been 300 years since the Citadel Council had stumbled upon the open relay that lead to the Protoforms, and 300 years since these creatures were unleashed upon an unsuspecting galaxy by the Council ambassadors and the blockade had been implemented to keep the entire monstrous population at bay. Now a new power is stirring that may tip the balance in any direction... AU
1. Prologue

**The Other First Contact**

C. C. Morse

**Prologue: Another Day for C-Sec**

The market was loud and bustling, peoples of nearly all races all talking at once: with each other, with shopkeepers, and one Drell in a corner was talking to himself, likely lost in a memory. Two turians stood with their backs nearly against a wall, watching the life around them through the glow of their omnitools. The glow was the only indication they were there, their black with blue striped armor faded neatly into the shadows. As one turian directed the tool towards a crowd, a blue light flashed on it. The he nudged his partner and they both pulled out weapons: one rifle carried awkwardly in one hand so the other hand could continue scanning with the omnitool, while the other turian pulled out a rocket launcher.

The turians began to walk towards the crowd. An asari shopkeeper looked disapprovingly at them, her muttered words, "I remember the days when C-Sec didn't have the audacity to carry heavy weapons…" could be heard as they walked past.

"Wait…" the omnitool-holding turian said, and his partner stopped alongside him, never taking his eyes from the crowd. The omnitool flashed again, and a scream erupted from the crowd. The turian quickly put away his omnitool and readied his rifle, and ducked. A massive, pinkish-black tentacle flew past where his head had been.

The crowd seemed to explode as the panicked people fled from the creature, the source of the tenticle, tripping and pushing each other in their haste. It was bipedal in shape, with rough black chitinous armor. One arm grabbed a rifle and leveled it at the turians. The other arm was a long grasping tentacle that pulled back towards the creature with the asari shopkeeper caught in its grasp. The creature fired.

The turians swore and jumped behind a counter. The shots seemed to continue for minutes until they stopped, when the unmistakable sound of a gun's heat alarm sounded, and then the turians rose up and returned fire. The rifle wielding turian launched off an Incinerate from his omnitool first, and then opened fire on the creature while the projectile zoomed towards it. The Incinerate hit, but the only effect was that the creature was forced to take a step back. The other turian launched two rockets at it, while his partner's gun began to sound its own heat alarm. The creature took the hits and raised its rifle in response, while the tentacle arm shifted into the form of a shield. The turians ducked back down while shots from the creature's rounds rained upon the counter again.

The rifle wielding turian readied an Overload and the other reloaded the rocket launcher. When the shots stopped the turians rose back up, only for the rocket-launcher wielding turian to be forced to jump to the side as a tentacle flew towards him. The other launched the Overload and opened fire again. When the Overload hit a guttural shriek filled the air and the creature's armor seemed to writhe. The tentacle appendage recoiled and shifted into an arm. The fallen turian rose up and launched all of his rockets at the creature. They all hit and the screams grew louder as they did. The flash of the explosives both illuminated and concealed the creature. A tentacle shot out towards the turians again and they ducked down behind the counter. The screaming continued and then died off, and the turians readied their weapons and rose up again.

In place of the creature was a red streaked pile of gore, which was dormant upon the floor. The rifle wielding turian launched an Overload at it. The pile remained unresponsive. The turians moved out from behind the counter towards it, keeping their guns aimed at it. They stopped at the edge of the pile and one turian nudged it with the barrel of his rifle. Nothing happened.

The turians sighed with relief. One put away his rifle and pulled up his omnitool while the other simply rested his rocket launcher against the floor.

"Yes, we have great news!" the turian spoke into his omnitool, while his friend was smiling like an idiot. "Sir, we have successfully-" the turian was cut off as blood flew from his mouth and he was suddenly yanked backwards by an unseen force. The other turian turned around to see his friend with a tentacle impaled through his chest being pulled towards a drell.

The turian raised his rocket launcher and fired, and nothing came out while the other turan became engulfed in the flesh of the drell. The creature suddenly morphed into a swarm of tentacles and then to the form of the other turian. The real turian quickly reloaded his rocket launcher and fired all of his rockets at the creature wearing his partner's form and then dove behind a counter. A scream filled the air as he reloaded the rocket launcher. He rose up and fired all of his rockets again.

The turian ducked back down and reloaded. The air was filled with silence. Suddenly, the turian stood back up, ready to fire the launcher again. The creature that took the form of his partner was now a mass of bloodied, exploded flesh on the floor. The turian sent a rocket at the largest pile of gore and the mess exploded, but otherwise remained inert.

The turian looked around at all of his surroundings, finding that this time he was completely alone.

******************** Another Day for C-Sec: End ********************

Talk for reader:

Fight scenes are hard. I had to edit a couple of times to make it clear that the enemy is tough, but not too bright, but not too tough and not too stupid. The Protoform fought like players with beginner level experience…on hard mode. I need heavy weapons to be the bane of the enemy; otherwise the galaxy does not stand a chance. Also, Overload and other electrical attacks are effective for disrupting the enemy's abilities. I really just can't make this hopeless or it will suck. Incinerate has the effect of a rocket launcher in game so, it is pretty much the same here. I guess explosives don't really do much against the armor, but the electrical attacks are good for disrupting the armor. The enemy can keep fighting as long as there is food (people) to heal themselves with. The rocket launchers can hold four rockets at once. A direct hit from four rockets on an unarmored enemy is usually fatal. That turian was carrying at least eighteen rockets on his person…a lot of rockets. But there is tougher stuff out there…

I draw inspiration from Palladius's "Prototypes" and HoboGod's _Reapers Light. _

I cannot figure out how to get this site to allow me to tab and it also removed all of my double spacing.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Inglorious Heroes**

Spectre Garrus Vakarian was taking a break when he saw his friend sit on the bench inside C-Sec. He practically fell into the seat, and the lights made the weary shadows on his face even more pronounced.

"Chellick." Garrus called out and his friend turned his head and faced him. "I heard you killed two protoform out there today," Garrus said as he sat down on the bench, "You should be celebrating."

"My partner was eaten." Chellick said, "I should have checked to make sure the area was secure."

"You avenged him," Garrus rested his hand on his friend's shoulders, "that is more than most can say."

"Yeah…"Chellick trailed off.

Garrus sighed and looked at his hands. "We have lost many officers since these things arrived. Your partner is far from the first. That intel you got was great though."

Chellick looked at him in disbelief. Garrus brightened.

"Really, who knew Overload can penetrate these Genestealers' armor? And it even seemed to stun it!"

"It wasn't that great, I don't see how that hasn't been done before." Chellick grumbled.

"STG hasn't apparently. That vid taken from your visor has them practically drooling."

"All for the cause, I guess."

"Damn right." Garrus clapped Chellicks shoulder, "and with your success with Overload and that new model rocket launcher, we have a chance at destroying these things!"

"Maybe…"

Garrus straightened and stood up. "I have to report to the Executor, but I'll buy us both drinks at Flux later okay?" Chellick hummed in response.

The routes to the various districts in the citadel had become much slower in recent years. The borders between all districts had scanners, scales and armed C-Sec guards. The entrances to any places that can afford it now had similar measures. The Executor's office in the Embassy District was as pristine as ever, with its immaculate white walls and the Captain seated at his desk, overlooking some files on his private terminal. Garrus stood straight before the desk and the Executor looked up at him.

Spectre Vakarian," the Executor Pallin began, "I have an assignment for you." He gathered himself and continued, "I imagine by now you are aware of this recent development? That the new ML-77 rocket launcher has been proven very effective when used in conjunction with Overload, and still effective without?"

"Yes sir?"

Executor Pallin rested his hand wearily on his terminal. "Three batarians arrived the other day. They were called in by the batarian ambassador but they never arrived in the Batarian Embassy. These men had cleared every checkpoint between the docks and Presidium, but shortly after entering the Presidium they completely disappeared. That was over four hours ago. Ambassador Jath'Amon has only alerted us now to their missing status and he has been acting rather oddly since. When Customs searched their ship, it was completely deserted and there is no trace of anyone being on that ship recently."

"You think the missing batarians are protoforms, sir?'

"I pray to the Spirits they are not."

"Sir?"

"As you know, our scanners are the best design STG has created, yet they can only detect the protoform when they begin to shift their form. The most accurate detection devices we have are the scales at every security checkpoint. Because of the protoforms' immense disproportional mass and inability to use biotic powers, they are revealed every time they step on a scale. If, somehow these things can fool a scale, if they have developed biotics, we have lost the most reliable way to detect these things."

Garrus swallowed and stepped back. "Maybe they got eaten after they arrived…"

"Officer Vakarian, how is that any better?" The Executor snapped, "How is it any better that we have protoform here? In the Presidium? Eating people and stealing their identities? Thank the Spirits they cannot impersonate the Keepers without the real ones going berserk…" He muttered under his breath and then straightened. "You are to investigate the disappearance of these batarians. I recommend you start with investigating their ship and where they were last spotted, and questioning the batarian ambassador. Dismissed."

It was a short walk to reach the Batarian Embassy. There were no check points between the Executor's office and the Batarian Embassy as all of the embassies were located within the same building as the Executor's office and the ambassadors hated the checkpoints in the Presidium. Many of the upper classes believed that the security measures were unnecessary in their districts, and had insisted that the Protoform Problem would not be able to escape the districts of the lower classes. Garrus was of the opinion that they would be soon proven wrong.

The Batarian Embassy lobby had stark white walls adorned with expensive batarian tapestries, several members knobby batarian shrub with green spheres for leaves in examples of expensive batarian pottery and a massive window and balcony overlooking the Presidium. The furniture was of Asari design and far above Garrus's pay grade, and a door to the ambassador's office itself sat on the back wall. A fairly young female batarian secretary seated behind the front desk looked up from her terminal as Garrus entered the room.

"Can I help you…?" She asked, startled.

"Yes. I am Spectre Vakarian, here to see Ambassador Jath'Amon."

"Um… the ambassador is not expecting anyone…" She said slowly as she examined her terminal. "What is the nature of your visit?"

"I am looking into the disappearance of those batarians that the ambassador called in."

"Oh, right!" She brightened. "Let me tell the ambassador you have arrived." She made a few taps on her terminal, then "the ambassador is ready to see you." She gestured to the door to the ambassador's office. As Garrus entered the ambassador's office, he decided that he would have to talk to her later.

Ambassador Jath'Amon's office was even more luxurious than the lobby, though in the same style. There was more expensive stuff in the office than in the lobby, and Garrus found the effect somewhat tacky. The ambassador was seated at his own desk, his posture perfect as if he were prepared to deliver a speech to be broadcast for all of Council Space.

"Ah, Spectre Vakarian," ambassador Jath'Amon said in a friendly, welcoming tone, "have you found the captain and his men?"

Garrus stood straight and kept his face free of expression, "I have not."

"Damn." The ambassador's face twisted in frustration, and a flash of fear.

"What can you tell me about the captain?" Garrus asked.

"Captain Ka'hairal Balak is a high ranking member of the Batarian External Forces," the ambassador sighed and continued, "He was coming here to inform me directly about the recent events along the borders of the Hegemony space."

"Something interesting happened I take it?"

The ambassador glared.

"I need to know if anyone wanted the captain killed ambassador," Garrus said, "any possible leads will make my investigation easier."

"You believe he and his men are dead then?"

"It is a possibility. It is possible they are still alive."

"The Hegemony is on the frontier of Council Space and sits close to the edge of the borders of the Terminus Systems. Every year raiding parties from the Terminus attack our colonies but the Council does nothing about it. We have petitioned countless times for the Council to spare some forces to patrol the border and countless times we have been denied!"

The ambassador took a breath to calm himself. "So we have been focusing on patrolling the borders ourselves and the captain was to bring me the latest updates."

Garrus imagined the protoform attacks happening all over Council Space might be the cause of the lack of ships for border patrol but he wisely did not voice this opinion to the ambassador. "Did he send you any messages before he arrived at the Citadel?"

The ambassador continued, "he mentioned that one of the Hegemony's outermost colonies, Lorek, is having some problems, but that is likely just a few more raid attempts from the Terminus than usual."

Garrus frowned, "Correct me if I am wrong, but isn't Lorek in the Omega Nebula?"

"It is a point of pride for our people that the Hegemony has been able to keep Lorek despite it being in the middle of Terminus Space. No pirate lord has ever rousted it from our control and never will."

"Anything else?"

Spectre Vakarian, everything else was to be delivered to me in person. Is this all?"

"Just one more thing," said Garrus, "why was the captain to bring you the information personally instead of across a secure channel?"

"There is no such thing as a secure channel. We have important information delivered in person to prevent messages from being intercepted." The ambassador frowned. "It seems however, that since the protoform, even that is not secure either. Do you know what the status of the Protoform Threat is?"

"I am not privy to such information." Garrus gave a slight polite nod, "have a good day ambassador." And then he left.

Garrus decided that his next stop should be the docks. With any luck, the ship would provide some clue as to the batarians' whereabouts, or maybe a reason behind their disappearance.

The docks had the most strict security measures of the entire Citadel. There were multiple scales and scanners at every entryway and at the docking zones for ships. Everyone and everything coming and going was inspected. As far as Garrus knew, there was no such thing as a VIP pass; everyone had to go through the same security inspections as everyone else. Although, that did not stop some from trying.

Executor Pallin had called ahead and notified Customs about the missing batarians, so the officers had already locked down the batarian captain's ship and begun more thorough inspections than usual. A quick discussion with the officers revealed that the batarians went through the security with very little fuss approximately five hours ago. They did not argue against inspection, scanners had picked up no contraband or shapeshifting, and scales picked up appropriate weights. They were among the least stressful inspections that the officers had ever done, especially for batarians who were well known to take insult over anything that could possibly imply disrespect.

But the interior of the ship was another story. Every terminal had been smashed into pieces. All spare omnitools and cameras, things that were usually found in ships were gone. Even the navigation was destroyed; ripped apart by something that left massive claw marks that matched no known species on the walls and floor. The most ominous destruction they found however, was faint foot prints embedded into the metal floor of the ship. The prints were roughly the shape of asari or batarian feet, except there were only four toes instead of five. The claw marks suggested the same number of digits as well.

The officers had recovered all the pieces they could find of the computers on the ship that might tell where they had come from and where they might have gone and sent the parts to the Network Division as the techs there were more likely to be able to reconstruct _something_. Garrus followed up with a request from the techs working on the reconstruction to message him with whatever they can put together.

Realizing there was nothing more to be gained here, Garrus left the docks to fulfill his promise to Chellick.

Flux was a fairly new nightclub in the Upper Wards of the Citadel and hugely popular. The owner, a volus by the name of Doran, maintained some of the most stringent security measures in the Upper Wards. Not only were there scales and scanners at the entrance, there were scanners within the nightclub itself, and a dedicated force of S-Sec guards constantly watching both the patrons and the scanners for any sign of any protoform. Because of the security, Flux had become one of the favored assignments among the Enforcement Division of C-Sec, particularly for those who had become traumatized from the protoform attacks, but still capable of service.

The excellent security also made the place one of the most favored places for S-Sec officer to take their breaks. As it was time for Chellick's break, there was no other place he would be.

As Garrus entered the nightclub, he saw Chellick sitting at the bar nursing a glass of some, probably cheap and potent, alcoholic beverage. Beside him sat a turian that took a few moments to identify.

"Nihlus?" Garrus asked, surprised to see his old mentor. "What are you doing here?"

Both Nihlus and Chellick turned to face Garrus, though Garrus noted that Chellick still tightly clutched his drink, which was far larger than usual.

"Ah, hello Garrus," Nihlus greeted, "Chellick said you would be coming."

"So what are you doing here?" Garrus asked as he sat into the other seat beside Chellick.

"I was just congratulating Chellick here on his accomplishments today." Nihlus patted him on the shoulder. "This man here is one of the illustrious few who fought a protoform to the death and lived to tell about it." He looked Chellick in the eye, "and you fought and killed two."

Garrus added, "He's right you know, you have every right to be proud of yourself."

"It wasn't that great," Chellick mumbled into his drink, "I was just trying not to die."

"Intentions or not, the sheer lethality of these things have made it nearly impossible to gather any conclusive data on them. Three hundred years and you have acquired the best data we have ever had. That is more than most can say." Said Nihlus.

"Nihlus, what do you know about protoform?" Garrus asked, "I have a case which might involve them."

Nihlus sighed, "I don't know much more than anyone else I'm afraid. Many records I have found about them describe them as just appearing all over the galaxy like some kind of monster from our nightmares."

'"Monster' sounds pretty accurate to me," Chellick mumbled.

"Where do they come from?" Garrus asked.

"Official documents indicate that they came from the other side of Arcturus Relay 2, which was one of the many relays in the Arcturus Stream found mysteriously open," Nihlus replied, "When the Hierarchy's scouts found the active relays, they investigated and soon found a planet with an unknown alien civilization on it on the other side of Relay 2. The Council was informed and it was assumed that the newly discovered civilization was the cause of the open relays. As they are a species that had obviously only recently achieved space travel, the Council sent ambassadors."

"I imagine this is where things went wrong," Garrus said.

"Yes. The ambassadors sent a message asking for more personnel, an odd message, but it was not one of alarm. And then they asked for some representatives from the minor races, which was unusual but the Council complied. There had to have been thousands of people that the Council sent to that world. And then everybody who went to that world returned home without any fuss. Then the disappearances started." Nihlus paused to ask the bartender for a drink. "At first, nobody really noticed: a few custodians did not show up at work or at home, a few techs suddenly quit their jobs… Stuff like that happens all the time. Just not so much of it at once. A few complaints here and there about the disappearances being unusual, a few odd messages from various worlds about mysterious signs of attacks. The various governments did not start doing things about it until some VIPs went missing."

"Which VIPs?" Garrus asked.

"Many. All over." Nilhus replied. "VIPs of all races. None connected to each other, other than being important. But still the Council forces themselves did not get involved until the attack on the Citadel Council itself."

"I think I might have read something about that once, that the Council Chambers were attacked by a protoform posing as a Spectre."

"Salarian Spectre Molan. I saw the vid of that. You would think the Council security would suspect something was up seeing as his weight left footprints crushed into the floor."

"Yeah, the Councilors are a bit oblivious to the obvious sometimes." Garrus gave a sad smile at the old joke among the Spectres.

"Well, it attacked the Councilors openly after they refused his request to send more ambassadors across Relay 2. Asari Councilor Aerina died in the attack and the remaining Council put the majority of their military capital on the task of ending the Protoform Problem. Everyone that could be located who had been a part of that diplomatic party was revealed as a protoform in disguise and killed. Unfortunately, many of those people vanished, which is why we are still finding these things."

"Why haven't we destroyed their homeworld, since that is where they are from?" Garrus inquired, frowning.

"Because the Council is stupid," said Chellick.

"I don't really know," answered Nihlus, "I imagine we let be as a trap for other protoform. Arcturus Relay 2 has been blockaded since the Council Attack and all the Relays in the Arcturus Stream are monitored by Citadel patrols. Any who try to get through those relays will be shot by our dreadnoughts."

"What kind of abilities do the protoform have?"

"Tentacles. Big tentacles," answered Chellick.

"The tentacles are one of the worst offensive capabilities that the protoform seem to have," Nihlus explained, "They have excellent range and can tear though armor, shields, barriers and cover. Actually, all of the offensive abilities I have seen can tear though most defenses. I recommend you practice dodging. Avoid getting into melee range with them if you can: their arms can shift into blades that can tear through tanks. Their shapeshifting is their greatest threat as they can impersonate anyone from any race and these things are not stopped by the dextro/levo barrier. They can also form an armored exoskeleton at will to protect themselves from most small arms. Fortunately, no one has ever reported a protoform using biotics. Oh, and they can, and do, use all kinds of firearms, and tech attacks too if they get ahold of an omnitool."

"Damn, is this all we have?" Asked Garrus, who had become increasingly worried about the difficulties he might face.

"Unfortunately. The measures needed to kill protoform tend to not leave enough remains to get conclusive data from. The DNA of these things is one of the most bizarre things the STG has ever seen. When they are alive, they read as whatever person they're impersonating, and when they're dead, they read as a pile of cooked mystery meat. The only obvious difference between a regular person and them before they shift is their weight."

"Spirits, what do you recommend for killing these things?"

"Explosives. Big ones." Said Nihlus with a straight face. "And because of our friend here," Nihlus gave Chellick's shoulder a friendly shake, "electrical attacks stun them and disable their armor. From what data I've seen, you might want to try some ammo upgrades on all your guns. Most of the successful kills with small arms involve modified rounds of some kind."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Suddenly, Garrus's received omnitool made a quiet "bing". Garrus opened the device pulled up his messages. The tech's had found something. The data was mostly corrupted, but they had managed pull up information about the colony of Lorek, but also about a moon named Torfan. The analysis of the data suggested that communications with the Hegemony's probably illicit mercenary operations on Torfan have suddenly gone dark, and communications with the entire Fathar system, which Lorek is a part of, are completely dark as well. "Looks like I need to go. Chellick, are you still nursing that drink?"

Chellick raised his still half-full glass in response.

"Ah, I'll buy you one next time." Said Garrus as he got up.

As Garrus headed towards the exit, Nihlus called out, "Hey, no more of those 'Lone Warrior' heroics. You need a team to watch your back!"

"Yeah, Yeah." Garrus waved him off as he left.

******************** Inglorious Heroes: End *******************

Talk for Reader:

Sorry for the wait. I am my own beta.

The reason a Spectre is taking orders from C-Sec is because of the protoforms. The idea is that C-sec is having so much trouble with them, a few notable officers were made into Spectres, and have the authority of specters, but they still usually answer to the Executor instead of directly to the Council.

I borrowed the Council Races' terms for the shapeshifting enemy from Prototype, the scanners' inability to detect them except when shapeshifting, and the much of the circumstances behind the invasion from Palladius's Prototypes. I borrowed a lot from that fic, but I am not necessarily following that writer's setup. We just happened to have a similar idea and I am really lazy when it comes to coming up with terms and names.

Many characters mentioned are from Mass Effect canon. Any differences in their character is from 300 years of alternate universe.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Hide and Seek**

Investigations into the areas the batarians were last seen in had proved pointless. There was no sign of anything happening, not even miniscule holes from mass driver weapons which Garrus had honestly been expecting. This mission had gotten under his plates so bad he felt like he would be attacked by protoform around every corner.

Garrus spent much of the rest of his day sitting on a bench outside the massive building that housed the embassies waiting for new leads and calibrating his rifles. Occasional updates from the techs in C-Sec kept the investigation from being completely hopeless. After checking and rechecking the scan data, the techs repeatedly assured Garrus that they were absolutely sure that there was no possible way the missing batarians used, of could have used, biotics to hide the abnormal, disproportionate weight typical to protoform. There was absolutely no sign of active biotics, the telltale aura which surrounds all things which create mass effect fields, which is impossible to hide. There was not even any eezo found within the batarians, so they could not use biotics even if they wanted to. He told the techs to search the various security video feeds across the Citadel to find where the batarians went and privately hoped that whoever docked as the captain was just another batarian who had cosmetic surgery to impersonate the captain.

To his great shame, Garrus also discovered the importance of the Fathar System while he was waiting, from a news feed. While Garrus lamented the parasitic newscasters being better informed than he, he did learn that the lost communications and ships from the Fathar System were just another example of a recent pattern going on in the Terminus Systems. The whole Terminus was systematically cutting off contact with Council Space, or being cut off.

He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised he did not know about the lack of communications from the Terminus; he had been avoiding the newsfeeds for the last few years since he became tired of hearing about the protoform attacks happening all over the galaxy. After 300 GSY, reports of protoform still made headlines and ratings.

Finally, the secretary from the Batarian Embassy emerged from the front doors of the building and headed over to the Public Transit terminal. Moving as quickly as possible without drawing attention, Garrus headed over to the terminal. The Public Transit system had the same simple security systems in place to prevent use by protoform: scales and scanners, but with alarms and automatic disabling instead of armed guards. It was simple enough for Garrus to slip in the transit car behind the secretary without her notice.

The car was halfway to the Tayseri Ward when the secretary finally noticed Garrus crammed behind her seat, and only because he spoke, "I suppose with the standard communications out, I suppose the only way to deliver news now is to do it in person. So, the question is, what news was the Captain delivering?"

The secretary jumped in her seat. If the car's navigation were not automated, it would have crashed from her fright. She turned around and found a pistol barrel aimed right between her four eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I suppose with thing going the way they are in the Terminus, it was surprising the captain even arrived at the Citadel to bring a report. So tell me, what news was the captain to bring?"

The secretary fidgeted in the seat.

"If you don't tell me about the captain now, I shoot you here for smuggling protoform into the Citadel."

"Protoform?!" Squeeked the secretary. Garrus always thought it was funny when batarians did that.

"Yes, protoform. Your family will probably never recover from the shame of your stupidity. They may even have your eyes cut out. Unless you tell me about the captain."

The secretary tilted her head to the left, a sign Garrus noted as acknowledgment of a superior. "Captain Balak called ahead… said that he had news from Lorek. The ambassador thought this was odd but it was the only contact from the Fathar System we've had recently… so we scheduled a meeting."

"Why was it odd?"

"Besides the lost communications, the captain was supposed to be stationed on Torfan in the Skyllian Verge to help acquire resources for the Hegemony, far from Lorek in the Terminus."

"What kind of resources?" Growled Garrus.

"The Hegemony is having a bit of an economic problem… as there are not enough workers to produce the goods we need, so Captain Balak was to help bring in more… workers… from the Terminus…"

"You mean slaves."

"Slavery is a traditional part of batarian culture," said the secretary. To Garrus, she sounded like she was reciting propaganda.

"It is still illegal and if the Hegemony wants to enslave people so much, enslave only your _own_ people!"

"The Council never cared what we do in the Terminus anyway, it is outside Council jurisdiction," cried the secretary.

"It is still repugnant." Garrus changed the subject, "why was Captain Balak calling the ambassador if he were making slave runs?"

"I don't know. He just called and said that he had news from Lorek."

The car landed before Garrus could continue questioning. After a second of thought though, he realized that he had run out of questions to ask anyway. A quick glance around revealed that they were at a Tayseri Ward Transit Terminal, though he could not remember which one. Garrus thanked the secretary for her aid in his investigation and stepped out of the car.

He walked a few steps before he received a message from on his omnitool from the techs. The techs had found Captain Balak's credit chit being used in the Tayseri Ward markets outside Anitoch Square, making purchases that appeared unusual when compared with the captain's Purchase Profile. Garrus was not sure he wanted to curse or thank the volus who created the purchase profile system which tracked everything bought by every individual who used credits. He never liked the system, but right now it was helpful so Garrus supposed he could do without hating it for a few minutes. The message said that the captain had being purchasing many books and vids on the culture, history, law and fictional works of the Council races, figurines of various military forces throughout history, model ships and an impressive amount of alcohol. The only thing on that list that fit the captain's profile was the alcohol, though never in the amounts that he was buying now.

Garrus took the Transit car he had just arrived in over to Anitoch Square. It was a lively and bustling public square, with many markets, the Museum of Galactic History and a beautiful park with children playing running about playing. There were the same basic security measures as everywhere, complete with armed C-Sec guards, but it was as if the protoform threat was largely unknown here.

The markets themselves were loud and crowded with all races. Garrus thought he even saw a few vorcha, who were much more common in Terminus space, haggling at one of the kiosks. He wove in and out between the crowds, the stalls, the stands, displays, and many other things that simply did not register in his mind. Suddenly, just beyond the next crowd he saw a face he recognized. Garrus pulled up his omnitool and looked at the image again for comparison. No mistake, he had found who he was looking for.

Garrus pushed past the crowd and found three batarians standing before a stall, one of which was examining a model of the _Destiny Ascension_, the flagship of the citadel fleet. He had found Captain Balak.

******************** Hide and Seek: End ********************

Talk for Reader:

Alright, I am not satisfied with my first chapter. I find it too fast paced and I give too much away. So, sooner or later, I will be breaking Chapter 1 into two or three chapters, as well as refining some of the details. I also really want to get rid of that "as you know…" cliché. I'd rather just make Garrus look like he liked to sleep during history class (despite that being a gross misuse of a history class). So, expect this to happen one of these days.

As you can see, the batarians are up to their usual antics. I am personally of the opinion that their culture is similar to the Old South with bits of Cold War totalitarian regime mixed in, and with extremely wealthy slave owners controlling the government and seeing slavery as a necessary evil (because it is very, _very_ profitable). The other classes are disproportionately poor in comparison, but do not want slavery to end either because that will flood the job market with more competition. And then you have those jobs that have ridiculously high mortality rates for various reasons that many free people just will not do (and jobs with high mortality rates that slave owners do not want to waste their "good" slaves on), necessitating the practice of bringing in more slaves. A lot of people hate it, but the problem with an economy built upon slave labor is that slavery becomes too important to simply abolish, because abolishing it will lead to economic collapse. Furthermore, the (free) people who live in a slavery based economy, when others call them out on how repugnant it is, they justify it, usually by claiming that it is "their right" and that it is "good for the slaves." Actually, they just don't want economic collapse because that really sucks. The problems that come with slavery-based economies are really quite fascinating.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Right

"Captain Ka'hairal Balak!" Garrus shouted as loud as he could over the din of the market. One of the other batarians tapped the captain's shoulder and leaned over to him. The captain turned to face Garrus and smiled.

"Can I help you…?" Asked the captain. He tone was light, friendly and sounded genuinely confused. Garrus quickly prayed to the Spirits that was the case.

"Spectre Garrus Vakarian," Garrus said, "I've been looking for you."

"Why? Is there a problem?"

"Your apparent disappearance had gotten a great many important people worried."

"Yeah, sorry about that," the captain averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, "it is my first time on the Citadel, I wanted to have a look around."

"You somehow completely disappeared from all the surveillance systems in the Presidium and made it into the Tayseri Ward without going through any checkpoints," Garrus pointed out, "I think you need a better explanation than that."

"Maybe I wanted to give the ambassador a bit of trouble." The captain stood straight.

"I think you gave him more than 'a bit of trouble.'" Garrus secretly readied an overload on his omnitool, "C-Sec was beginning to suspect you had been replaced by protoform." Garrus expected an attack from any three of the batarians.

He didn't expect for the captain to begin laughing.

"That's ridiculous," said the captain when he finally was able to breathe.

"Not really," replied Garrus. He was confused: protoform usually attack when confronted.

"You can't just go around accusing honest people of being protoforms! Where is your proof?"

"I'm a Spectre, I don't need proof," said Garrus. The captain glared and his fingers twitched. Garrus carefully pulled up his omnitool, making sure it's targeting laser was pointed away from the batarians, but could be aimed at them within a second. "But if its proof you want, I have seen your ship." He selected the pictures of the interior of the batarian ship.

"What about my ship?" asked the captain.

Garrus faced his omnitool's holographic display towards the captain, who stared blankly at it for a moment.

Then his eyes widened in horror. "What happened to my ship?!"

Garrus took this as a sign to press for confession, "well, it looks like it either experienced some protoform sneaking onto the Citadel trying to cover their tracks, or some really angry protoform successfully escaping captivity."

"So if I am not a protoform, I am trying to smuggle them? Do you realize how crazy that is?" The captain folded his arms across his chest, intertwining each other, an odd gesture for a batarian. Did the captain know a lot of asari?

"Completely crazy bu-."  
"Where is my crew?" demanded the captain suddenly.

The captain's sudden topic change confused Garrus for a moment. "Crew?"

"My crew. You seriously don't think three people can man a frigate do you?" Garrus nearly slapped himself for the oversight. Of course, he mused, if only he had kept awake more often during his childhood schooling he would probably know more about crewing ships. Well, if he doesn't die within the next few days, he supposed there was time to rectify that.

"I'm afraid there is no evidence of any crew on that ship," reported Garrus. And glancing over his omnitool, that appeared to be the truth. There was no trace of blood or other bodily fluids and aside from the claw marks and footprints, there was no sign of anything organic actually being on that ship. "I assume it was an all batarian crew?"

"Yes, a staff of twelve excluding ourselves."

Garrus thought for a moment then changed topics, "you mentioned that you wish to cause trouble for the batarian ambassador."

"I do," replied the captain.

"It seems counterintuitive, even treasonous to undermine the ambassador of your own species."

"Yeah, yeah, Turians with their _obedience_." The captain had raised his hands up and wiggled two fingers on each hand at the word "obedience." "But the Hegemony is a member of the Citadel Species and should obey Citadel law. If the superior orders are in conflict, which should be obeyed?"

"What are you trying to say?" Garrus asked honestly.

"If the Council had outlawed an action, but the Hegemony ordered it to be performed anyway despite it being outlawed, how should someone respond to this conflict of laws and orders?"

"Usually batarians defend slavery."

The captain shook his head side to side and Garrus had no idea what _that _meant. "Much more serious laws," said the captain.

"What is more serious than preserving the basic rights of sapient beings?"

The captain snorted. "Spectre Vakarian, the Council doesn't care if a few _peons _have their rights trampled over." Garrus opened his mouth to protest but the captain continued. "The people that are enslaved are not_ theirs_. They might be asari, salarian, or turian, but they are nobody considered important."

"Sir, if I may?" The batarian to the right behind the captain spoke up. The captain turned and glanced at him. The batarian addressed Garrus, "as long as nobody the governments like get captured, as long as the slavery does not hurt the accounts of the Council's backers and as long as it is too expensive to force the slavery to stop, the Council will never care enough to stop it."

The captain spoke "This is something that the Council could never ignore. You do recall the laws in the Citadel Conventions regarding first contacts?"

Garrus nearly groaned. "Yes, I know." And he did know. Species who are potential candidates for first contact are observed for years before the Council chooses whether or not to introduce the species to the galaxy. The Council itself appoints the ambassadors, who consist only of members of the three Councilor species, to meet the leaders of the new species. This policy had proved its importance with the krogan, the yahg, the vorcha and especially the protoform. As it was shown with all of these species, some are either not ready to, or should ever join the galactic community.

"Well, let's say the ambassador gave orders that required me and my crew to ignore them."

Garrus sighed, "The Batarian Ambassador cannot be accused of breaking the Citadel Conventions lightly. I need evidence."

"I was hoping you would say that." The captain pulled up his own omnitool and tapped at it with his other hand. Garrus pulled up his own. It made a soft bing and Garrus saw that he had what looked like a copy of a message from ambassador Jath'Amon. "That should be what you need to confront him," said the captain. He then stretched and said, "Well, I'll be going." The captain gestured to his men and then walked off with them following. Garrus tried to watch where they went but they soon disappeared into the crowds.

He opened up the message and read:

To: Captain Balak

From: Ambassador Jath'Amon

Re: New Supplies

This species looks promising. The applications for industry, agriculture and service appear significant and this primitive specie's tiny fleet will be easily crushed. It is fortunate that their homeworld is in the Attican Traverse. It is unlikely for any Council fleets to stumble into any operations. The Hegemony has determined threat of Council interference to be minimal and is eager to acquire some specimens. Capture some specimens to be brought to Torfan for inspection. I will send agents to conduct the inspection. You will paid 1000 credits extra for each one that passes screening. Do not disappoint me.

This was certainly enough to confront the ambassador. Garrus just hoped he wasn't _expected_.

******************** Right: End *******************

Talk for Reader:

The next chapter should have a fight scene.

I turned "sentient" into "sapient."

Haven't finished fixing chapter one yet.

I hate this chapter's title.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Ambassador's Residence

Garrus forwarded the message to the Executor along with his report, which he labeled as URGENT. Then, realizing he was already in a market, he decided now was as good a time as any to purchase some ammo mods. As the mods were universal with all standard Council weaponry and easy to add and remove from all guns, he decided to buy several of the best ones he could find and modify the rounds of all his weapons. He placed an incendiary mod on his sniper rifle so it would be better for piercing armor, a disruptor mod on his assault rifle as he figured that it would have a good chance of giving him an advantage against Protoform and an anti-personnel mod on his pistol for the same reason. Then he went off to pursue the ambassador.

After a quick check of his omnitool, Garrus knew that the day had ended for most of the officials in the Presidium District, and so the ambassador would, most likely, be at his home, which was a few streets away from the embassies. Garrus took a Transit car from the Tayseri Ward marketplace over to a street corner near the ambassador's residence, and calibrated his guns on the way.

The building was unremarkably ostentatious, like every other building in the Presidium. It was grand and uniformly Prothean, with shielded balconies to prevent people from falling over the side, or breaking in. The windows appeared to be the same material used in spaceships and probably did not open, and if they did, they were likely shielded as well. The roof extended beyond the reach of the mass effect fields that kept the atmosphere within the Citadel. Garrus imagined there was also cameras that had already warned the ambassador of his presence.

His omnitool notified him of a new message from the Executor informing him that he was to bring in the ambassador for questioning. Of course he was to bring the ambassador for questioning, Garrus knew the obvious reaction to evidence of breaking the Citadel Conventions. He was also to wait for backup, but Garrus did not want the ambassador to have time to fortify his home. Also, he was sure he could bring him in himself.

The Prothean walls were blast proof and the door was reinforced, like every door in the Citadel. Even Protoform, whose massive strength had rendered personal shields and all but the best armor pointless, could not tear through the structure, just merely leave some impressive cosmetic damage before tiring and leaving to find an easier meal. But the door was also electronic like every door in the Citadel, which meant it was vulnerable to hacking. And Garrus had become quite good at hacking since he became a spectre.

After hacking the surprisingly easy door, Garrus entered the richly furnished foyer, and knew something was wrong. The foyer, the three grand staircases that flanked the front and sides of the foyer, the unshielded balconies of the upper floor, the side rooms, were all without movement. Garrus immediately became suspicious as he had never known a wealthy Presidium dweller's foyer to ever be completely empty. There were always some servants at work. And the door was far too easy.

Garrus's scanner registered some unusual activity from the top of the front stairs and immediately dove to the left behind a staircase. Just as he hit the ground, the unmistakable sound of rapidly fired rounds making impacts filled the room. Garrus shields flickered from shrapnel. He looked back and saw tiny bits of metal stuck to the floor and holes torn through the grand furniture from the ricochets.

Garrus glanced out from behind cover to where the shots came from and saw a ceiling mounted turret at the top of the front staircase. He ducked back down as it fired towards the general area of his head. Motion sensing, Garrus thought as he pulled out his assault rifle, he'd have to be quick. He readied his omnitool with an overload and fired it towards the far end of the room without breaking cover. As the turret fired at the projectile, Garrus jumped up and shot the turret with his rifle. The disruptor rounds made short work of the turret which fried after taking a quick burst of fire.

Garrus heard some shouts and he ducked back down behind the staircase. He checked his omnitool for the positions of the voices and snuck a peek in the general direction. The upper floor now had five batarians who wore the standard armor of the Batarian Hegemony military. Manufactured by Batarian State Arms, recalled Garrus as he examined their equipment though his visor. He could see that they were all armed with rifles of their own and that their armor ranged from medium to heavy, with one lightly armored. Their rifles were raised so Garrus felt he had reason to assume that they could not be reasoned with. He put away his assault rifle and pulled out his sniper rifle.

Hidden where he was, he examined each of the batarians through the scope. One raised his omnitool and spoke into it and Garrus heard the ambassador's reply come out of it, "Well, find him! We cannot allow the Council to know-"

Bam! Garrus fired and the head of the batarian who was speaking to the omnitool sported a dark hole and red was spattered upon the wall. The batarian fell and Garrus quickly lined up a shot with another batarian before dodging back further into cover.

The remaining batarians soon began firing around his former position and two rushed down the staircase to find him. Garrus swapped his sniper rifle for his assault rifle and circled around the underside of the staircase. He saw two batarians were facing away from him and opened fire. The shields crumpled and within seconds, so did the batarians.

As Garrus dodged back into cover, a shot rang out from above. Sharp pain blossomed in Garrus's right shoulder. He could still move his trigger finger and found the final batarian on the upstairs balcony and opened fire. Incredible pain want through his shoulder and his shots went wild in the general direction of the batarian. Garrus blinked away the tears and looked around for the batarian.

After several moments, Garrus stepped out of cover and stormed up the front staircase. He swept the immediate area for movement and found none. A quick count of bodies revealed five dead batarians.

Garrus checked his shoulder and found it to have a darkened blue mark. Armor piercing rounds, Garrus guessed. He found a fine, light synthetic cloth throw draped across a nearby armchair. After checking it's make with his omnitool, Garrus picked it up, tore it into strips and used it to pack his wound. He then looked around and found a nearby doorway to a room he suspected the batarians came from and readied his assault rifle.

Garrus stepped through the threshold and the door sealed behind him. A familiar voice spoke, "Spectre Vakarian, I have been expecting you." Garrus turned and found batarian ambassador, Jath'Amon, sitting in a hoverchair under a large dome shaped shield flanked by two turrets and with a rocket launcher in his hands.

"Oh Spirits…" said Garrus.

******************** Ambassador's Residence: End *******************

Talk for reader:

The ambassador was tipped off that the authorities know of his actions. The reason his security force is so tiny is that he was just received the tip not long ago. Garrus's cowboy cop actions actually did prevent the ambassador from fortifying the place or from slipping out of the Citadel before anyone could stop him as he had no time to either. That said, Garrus's plan was stupid, and he got shot for it. Though really I just wanted a fight scene.

If you are wondering why he doesn't just use medigel, Mass Effect canon specifically states that medigel is a human invention, which actually technically violates the Citadel Conventions but is far too useful to outlaw. Because of the Council races pretty much just following the footsteps of the "Protheans", it is incredibly unlikely that they would develop this on their own.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Garrus Is Not Left Handed

Garrus quickly decided to try to play stupid. "What is this?" He asked, gesturing towards the armed turrets that sat on the floor. His eyepiece's VI quickly analyzed them: Batarian State Arms make, rapid fire rounds, motion tracking VI, immobile, probably the same kind of turret that he destroyed earlier but floor mounted instead of ceiling…

"Really, Spectre?" Drawled the ambassador from his cushy hoverchair, "Do you honestly believe I will fall for that?"

"Fall for what? What are you talking about?" Replied Garrus with the best innocent expression he could muster. _Cover, cover cover,_ recited a mantra in his head.

He glanced about the room. There were two large pillars that flanked him and if he was fast enough, he could jump back behind the corner he came from. The walls were undoubtedly Prothean, and the pillar, while probably decorative, looked to be Prothean as well.

The ambassador laughed, a full hearty laugh as if Garrus told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

_Now!_ Decided Garrus and he grabbed his pistol from his hip mount and opened fire at the turret on the left, and jumped towards the pillar on his right. The rounds made sparks as they hit the turret and the machine shuddered. Light burst from the barrel and a roar of gunfire echoed through the room. Garrus shoved himself against the pillar, and pain erupted from his arms and shoulder. He flattened his back to the pillar as best he could, and the heat and shockwave of an explosion passed by his face. He didn't hear the explosion.

The noise wound down, and Garrus's ears were ringing in the silence. "Is this it? Is this the best of the Council's finest?" A distorted voice taunted. _The ambassador's voice_, Garrus thought. He sounded muted.

Garrus moved to put away his pistol and found his hand empty. He looked around and found it laying on the ground not far out of cover. _I must have dropped it when I hit my shoulder_, he thought.

Garrus reached for his assault rifle on his back and grimaced in pain. He sighed and braced himself, and reached for it again, this time grabbing it and disengaging it from its mount. He gingerly cradled the gun against his right arm and recalled the position of the leftmost turret. _Spirits,_ he prayed, _I am going to need help with this._ He carefully swapped the hands holding the gun and positioned it in mirror-image as best as he could of how he would usually hold it, with it braced against his left arm instead of his right.

Garrus poked out of cover facing the leftmost turret and opened fire. His aim was wild but enough disruptor rounds hit and quickly overwhelmed the electronics within the turret, which soon exploded from the strain.

Garrus stepped back into cover just a rocket flew past. He watched it hit a damaged shelf expensive clutter and explode, showing him with debris that bounced off of his shields. The sounds of rocket and gunfire slowed to a halt and the taunting resumed. He breathed hard, his shoulder hurt, and he counted to three.

Garrus leaned out of cover again, towards the rightmost turret and opened fire. The shots went wild again and only a few hit the turret. The turret moved and he ducked back into cover. Rounds flew past and rockets exploded against the pillar. He carefully set his rifle against the pillar and loaded an overload into his omnitool.

He leaned out from the other side of the pillar and launched the overload at the huge, glowing shield that the ambassador sat under, and leaned back into cover and grabbed his assault rifle. Gunfire resounded as Garrus positioned the rifle in his left arm again. Then he leaned out of cover again and fired at the turret. Sparks flew as rounds hit and the parts of the turret exploded.

Garrus ducked back into cover as a rocket exploded. More taunts rang out, or were they rants? He found that he did not care enough to listen and find out.

More rockets exploded against the pillar and back wall. _Hasn't he run out yet?_ Garrus wondered. He activated the replay function of his eyepiece and rewound it to the last time he saw the ambassador's shield and then paused the recording. He searched the image and found the shield generators, large and exposed near the turrets. He sighed in relief that no one had developed a nearly impenetrable personal shield generator that was small enough to actually fit in the shield.

Garrus deactivated his eyepiece's replay function and readied his rifle. He leaned out of cover and fired at one of the generators. The machine overloaded quickly and cut off, and the shield around the ambassador collapsed. An enraged scream filled the air.

Garrus turned and opened fire upon the ambassador as the ambassador aimed the rocket launcher at Garrus. Garrus's shots were wild again and hit the ambassador's hoverchair, the disruptor rounds made short work of the delicate electronics maintaining the hover function and the chair dropped out of the air. The electricity from the rounds and the chair shocked the ambassador and his muscles spammed. His finger squeezed the trigger of the rocket launcher before he hit the ground. The rocket flew up and exploded against the ceiling, showering Garrus and the floor with more debris.

As the ambassador struggled to right himself on his chair and find his rockets to reload his launcher, Garrus stormed up and kicked the launcher out of his hands, which smacked the ambassador in the face. Garrus pointed his rifle down at him and said, "Ambassador Jath'Amon, you are under arrest."

It was at that moment S-Sec burst into the room.

******************** Garrus Is Not Left Handed: End *******************

Talk for reader:

Sorry about the pillars. I know the architecture of the Citadel doesn't use them much as decorative pieces, but Garrus really needed some cover in reach or he would die. I am also sorry about the chapter name. I couldn't think of anything.

Used "mounts" instead of "holsters" as Mass Effect guns do not rest in anything I can recognize as, or call, a holster. The mechanism is more like a wall mount attached to body armor instead of a wall.

Had Garrus shoot lefty because of his injury. I think he is right handed, but I am not sure. It is really hard to shoot a gun if you have a shoulder injury. As the round (armor piercing by the way, causes less damage to flesh because it leaves a fairly clean hole) managed to miss a lot of the important parts of bone, nerve and muscle structure so Garrus retained quite a bit of motion. But he cannot brace a gun against that arm anymore and his range of motion is now limited.

I was asked a question, Why does Medigel violate the Citadel Conventions? The Citadel Conventions, a series of laws created after the Krogan Rebellions, have genetic modification illegal. Medigel, however, uses genetic modification as some of its functions to have the body regenerate the area applied. Genetic modification is probably also used in medigel's manufacture, but the process of its creation is a well-kept secret of the corporation that manufactures it.

If you think a moment, you realize STG violated the Citadel Conventions when they updated the Genophage. Even if the act was cleared by the rest of the Council, the act makes it clear that the rulers of Citadel Space consider genocide preferable to the krogan regaining some of their lost power and that only others besides themselves should obey the Conventions (for whatever rationale they use to justify it).


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Knowledge

Once the C-Sec officers had broken through the door, they quickly took charge and arrested the ambassador, and _recommended_ Garrus visit the infirmary immediately. Then, they practically _pushed_ him into one of the C-Sec hovercars and drove him to the nearest hospital. There, the doctors tended to his shoulder while he was loopy from anesthetic. At some point, a particularly solemn faced salarian doctor told him something grave and important, but Garrus had a hard time paying enough attention to what the doctor was saying: he was too busy wondering what exactly was in the anesthetic he had been given and idly speculating where he might find some more. Then the door opened to Garrus's private room opened and Executor Pallin entered, and happiness of Garrus's high was gone.

Upon comprehending the Executor's _visit_, Garrus swallowed and said, "Sir?"

"What were you thinking charging in there?" The Executor sounded angry.

"I couldn't let the ambassador get off the Citadel. C-Sec was taking too long-"

"Spectre Vakarian! Did you even listen to the doctors?" Interrupted Executor Pallin. "You are not going to be able to hold a rifle again."

"I was enjoying whatever they put into my IV too much," said Garrus.

The Executor blinked. "Maybe I should be happy you will be stuck behind a desk from now on."

"What?! I am perfectly fit for duty!"

"Did you read this?" Executor Pallin picked up the datapad that was hooked to the hospital bed and waved it, "because according to the doctors, you tore the muscles and nerves in your right shoulder beyond repair. You are lucky you have the ability to move your right hand at all."

"I can still use my left just fine," retorted Garrus.

"Are you listening? The regulations exist to keep things like this from happening!"

"Like preventing a criminal from escaping?"

"Preventing crippling injuries, Vakarian!" The Executor sighed, "How are you going to be of any use in the field if you can't aim a gun?"

"I'll learn to shoot left-handed."

The Executor sighed. "Indeed, definitely happier you will be stuck behind a desk."

"I was as good as C-Sec officers are with their right hands." Garrus's words sounded slurred even to himself.

"Vakarian, it's not all matter of capability. With your 'Lone Varren' antics this was going to happen eventually. Even if you can get your skill with your left to match your former ability with your right, I am not certain you should be out in the field."

"But Executor-"

"Spectre, even if you can train your left hand sufficiently, my report is going to say that you shouldn't be in the field without a partner, so if you are so desperate to get yourself killed, go find yourself someone as crazy as you to watch your back. I'm also telling the Council that you are on a _much needed_ vacation. I suggest you use that time wisely."

After that, the Executor delivered the standard "Get Well Soon" message and left, leaving Garrus to wait for the doctors to give him permission to leave, which was unfortunately, long after the anesthetic wore off and the ache in his shoulder returned. They didn't give him any of that anesthetic when he checked himself out, probably on the insistence of the Executor, and so Garrus was left to deal with the pain with much some less potent pills.

With a quick check of his omnitool, Garrus found a message from the Council thanking him for his hard work, wishing him a pleasant vacation and that if he regained his skills to please resubmit a portfolio for evaluation to return to active duty. _ If. _Garrus sighed. He knew he would be able to be a great marksman with his other hand, but probably not as good as before. He really wanted to begin training his left immediately, but the doctors were very insistent that he not try to fire any guns until his muscles healed sufficiently. At least he could maintain his weapons' calibrations. And maybe do research and alleviate the gaps of knowledge he had accumulated since the beginning of his career.

And so he found himself back in Anitoch Square of the Tayseri Ward standing outside the Museum of Galactic History, which was advertising a vorcha exhibit, of all things, on the massive vid-banners that were positioned strategically about the front of the Museum. He shrugged and went inside, after all, no matter what the feature is, there was going to be some general exhibits that remained for those who are uninterested in the feature.

Garrus entered the museum and found the place fairly quiet. After he got past the scanners and scales in the entrance, he found that there were only a few patrons visiting the museum. He wondered about until he found a young asari employee directing patrons to areas of interest. A quick question about where he might find some recent history and he was directed to vorcha exhibit, of all things, where apparently there was something about a "Heshtok Extinction."

When he arrived at the main he found Captain Balak and his two men examining a rotating hologram of a planet and listening to a recorded asari voice.

"…homeworld of the vorcha. In the year 2023 Council Era, a routine scan of the planet returned alarming results. Half of this world showed little activity aside from large number of unknown life forms. A closer inspection later that year revealed these life forms to be variations of Protoform. The vorcha military proved to be ineffective at repelling the invasion and by the year 2027 Council Era, the entire planet fell to the Protoform. Today, Council scans seem to indicate the only life forms still alive on Hashtok are Protoform," said the emotionless asari voice.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," said Garrus behind the captain, who turned around and faced Garrus, then nodded.

"Why not? I said we wanted to take in the sights," replied the captain. Garrus had to think for a moment to understand the odd use of _take in_.

"Enjoying yourself?" Garrus gestured to the hologram.

"This _thing _is worse than that Avina," the captain scowled, "whoever programed these things seems to be of the opinion that it's the vorcha's fault their homeworld got overrun with Protoform."

"Been arguing with the holograms I take it?"

"They phrase everything to make the Council races sound blameless and any efforts to pry out another side of the story gets: 'I'm sorry, that is beyond the parameters of my programing.'" The captain's impersonation of the Avina VI's voice was uncannily accurate. "I'm completely convinced I don't like tourist VIs."

"They do seem a little biased," conceded Garrus.

"Hah, earlier, this one here," the captain gestured towards the hologram of the planet, "compared the defenses of the Citadel to the defenses of Heshtok. Which is not only a ridiculous comparison, but also completely ignored all of the most important factors to instead brag about C-Sec."

"What important factors?"

"The obvious difference between the Citadel and Heshtok is that one is a space station and the other is a garden world."

"And how is that a factor?"

"Space stations, because of their nature, impose limits upon Protoform. They have limited space which means that there is less to secure. Also, they have much smaller populations in comparison to garden worlds, which means that there is less for the Protoform to eat."

"The Citadel has checkpoints with scales and scanners all over which enable C-Sec officers to quickly identify and kill them.

"But C-Sec mostly forgot about ways to get around the checkpoints, like _ducts _and_ catwalks_, which are all over the interior of the Citadel. This place is filled with hidden pathways which the Council races have never explored because of the alarming tendency for the explorers to disappear. I imagine whatever unknown defenses litter those pathways are what should get most of the credit for keeping the Protoform from gaining a foothold here. They seem to force the Protoform to stick to going through the checkpoints. But everywhere else, this oversight leads to huge security breaches."

Garrus's omnitool received a message, but he ignored it. "You mentioned that space stations impose limits, but I wouldn't imagine that a space station is that limited in things like food and space. They tend to be like cities."

"Enclosed, cramped cities," replied the captain, "Protoform gain the mass of whatever they eat and never become full. On a space station, this means they have to diet to avoid outgrowing their environment. But on a planet, especially a garden world, the easiest way to put this is to say that there is no upper limit to how_ massive_ Protoform can get."

"So when the VI mentioned variations of Protoform…?"

"It likely meant that, if the Protoform on the Citadel are like krogan, then the ones they had to deal with on Heshtok are like thresher maws."

"Spirits…" said Garrus as he imagined a thresher maw sized _creature_ running amok on the Citadel.

"Yes," said the captain.

"You seem very knowledgeable about this."

"I do a lot of border patrol. There is some disturbing stuff out there."

Garrus's omnitool received another message. "One second," said Garrus. He checked the sender, then opened the message:

To: Spectre Vakarian

From: Officer Chellick

Re: Get Out of There

_Get out of there and open that message from the techs._

Garrus blinked and reread the message to be sure. "Uh, I got to go," he said and he turned around and walked quickly to an empty exhibit. There, he searched his omnitool and found the message from the techs. It said that they reconstructed a security vid from Torfan that had downloaded onto one of the ship's computers but noted that there was no sound. The techs attached a copy to the message. Garrus opened the vid.

The vid showed the interior of a room. There were many armed batarians and many dirty gray objects in the room. Garrus recognized one of the batarians as Captain Balak. Then an asari moved within one of the objects and Garrus realized that they were cages.

An unknown batarian with unfamiliar weapons in sling-like holsters that wrapped around his armor walked into the room to the captain and they spoke. They turned towards an entryway and three batarians came into the room, each pushing a cage on a hoverlift and weapons in sling-like holsters. The unknown batarian opened one of the cages and a being whose species Garrus had never seen before crawled out and stood upright.

It was bipedal, and as tall as the batarians with a very similar build, but it had a face remarkably similar to an asari with brown skin. Its head had a covering of hair on top that was darker than its skin. It wore clothes that were also in shades of brown that looked to be some sort of animal hide.

The being cowered before the captain, who then grabbed its arm and dragged it towards a table that had something on it. Garrus saw being's hands only had four fingers. The unknown batarian followed behind. The captain stopped and started gesturing towards the other batarians in the room. Then most of them left through the doorway the unknown batarian had come from, which then sealed closed.

The three batarians who were wearing similar holster-slings as the unknown batarian shifted into the black armored forms of Protoform and kicked the remaining cages they had brought in at the largest group of batarians that remained in the room. The cages exploded into masses of black tentacles which impaled the batarians and pulled them in, and then reformed into more armored Protoform.

The Protoform that had kicked the cages each pulled rifles of unknown make out of the holsters and opened fire onto the remaining batarians. The rifles shot bursts of red light which went straight through the batarians and hit the wall.

The captain reached for the shotgun holstered on his back. As he pulled out the shotgun the unknown batarian's body transformed into a black armored form and his arm became a blade which he shoved into the captain. The captain twitched and was absorbed into the black armored being.

"Well," a familiar voice behind Garrus took his attention from the vid, "Looks like we've been discovered."

******************** Knowledge: End *******************

Talk for reader:

Sorry my chapters are woefully short. I don't have much time to work and ensure my updates are posted weekly on Tuesday. I am also sorry for any spelling and grammar issues, I am my own beta.

No medigel = all injuries are as serious as they are in real life.

Garrus may work with C-Sec and therefore under the Executor, but Spectres are still Spectres and the final say goes to the Council. Therefore, the Executor writes reports to the Council about whatever missions Garrus takes part in.

I hope I have sufficiently answered your questions about how the Protoform in the intro seemed to be a bit "nerfed." The Protoform on the Citadel are unusually weak as the scales impede them from traveling freely without dieting. As their power (and "health bar") is proportionate to their mass, and their mass is heavy (and they are completely without biotics) the scales reveal them every time they "fatten up." Security is really tight on the Citadel, despite the Council still having their heads in their anuses like canon. For instance, even though the C-Sec mostly forgot about things like _ducts and catwalks_ that are all over the interior of the Citadel, the Citadel itself has automated defenses designed for the express purpose of keeping organics out of its secrets. These defenses are quite effective at keeping Protoform from using alternative means of bypassing checkpoints. Therefore, the Protoform on the Citadel have approximately the same mass as whatever they are impersonating. Places where security is lax (everywhere else in various degrees)… _Protoform do not have an upper limit on how massive they can get and they are highly adaptable. _ Andwhile they have limits, the Council does not know what most of them are.

There are more reasons why the Protoform in the intro was weak but as they are relevant to the plot, I will not cover them in a footnote. Please don't ask anymore.

If you think they are still nerfed, look up Heshtok on the wiki.

Also, please don't ask about Alex or Pariah. That information is also plot relevant.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Scary Awkward Greetings

Garrus spun around and found Captain Balak's face watching him a few feet away. In reflex, Garrus jumped back and reached for his pistol. Pain shot through his arm and he squeezed his eyes closed, but also flicked off the safety of his gun and pulled the trigger.

Shots rang out in the room, more pain and Garrus felt his gun slip from his fingers.

Garrus opened his eyes. A thing wearing the batarian captain's armor stood before him with a head completely covered in a black chitinous helmet. He could see shiny little flecks of metal stuck on it. The helmet shifted, writhed and withdrew and the face revealed was not the captain's.

It had a face shaped almost identical to an asari, but tan or very light brown instead of blue. It had hair upon its head as well: a bright reddish rust on hanging down from the top and a darker rust in a pair of strips above each eye (which reminded Garrus of the markings some asari have). It had a pair of eyes that were incredibly like an asari's: black pupils, white sclera, and colored iris which in this case was hazel. Garrus was fairly sure this form was of the same unknown alien race on the vid.

"That was annoying," it said and Garrus wondered how even its voice could be like an asari's. It made an odd gesture with one of its four-fingered hands, which was without gauntlets.

Garrus reached for his shotgun with his left hand and felt an odd sensation wash over him. A clatter echoed in the room and the holsters from his back were without weapons. A tentacle swept around his feet and sent his weapons sliding to the far side of the room.

Garrus looked around and saw the other two, now no longer pretending to be batarians and instead looked like members of the same alien race as the "captain." One was holding a small, metallic rectangular device that Garrus guessed was some type of datapad and the other was lowering its arm and he was certain this was the one who removed his weapons.

"I wasn't expecting to be discovered. Congratulations."

Garrus tried to activate his omnitool, but it was unresponsive. "I had an impressive cocktail of painkillers and other drugs all day," said Garrus and he started backing up, "so if you eat me…"

"We'll get very, very intoxicated?" asked the "captain."

"Sounds worth it." Said the one with the datapad-thing.

"We could just shoot him." Said the other.

The "captain" chuckled. "But that would be poor payment for the opportunity the nice Spectre has given us."

Garrus really didn't like the sound of that. "Opportunity?"

"Spectre Vakarian," it gestured to itself, "I am Commander Jane Shepard of the Human Systems Alliance." Then it gestured to the one that took his weapons, "this is Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams," and to the one that now held a regular datapad, "and this is Lieutenant Robert Fonteneaux."

"Pleasure to meet you?" Internally, Garrus was panicking over the implications of Protoform with military ranks, like an actual Protoform military.

"We come bearing gifts." The commander then looked over to the one with the datapad.

It replied something in an alien language while focusing on the datapad. The commander frowned. The third one rubbed its hand against its forehead.

The Commander faced Garrus and smiled, "and we hope to live in peaceful coexistence with the Council."

Garrus blinked, twice and gaped. "What?"

"We come in peace." The commander held its arms wide.

"Is this some sort of… first contact?" Which Garrus thought was absurd and he wondered if the Protoform in front of him considered him an idiot.

"Yes."

Garrus thought for a moment, "I think we are all aware it is too late for that, considering that your kind have been ravaging the galaxy for around three hundred years now."

"That's not us."

Garrus's immediate thought was: _Really? Is that what you're going with?_ "Seems like you," he said with as much disbelief he could fit into his voice.

"The Infected and our race were once one," said the commander as it scratched the back of its head.

"The Infected?"

"You called them Protoform. We call them the Infected." Garrus noted that _Infected _and _Protoform_ both had the same kind of dread emphasis on them.

"Infected with what?"

"An apocalyptic virus that destroys free will," then the commander shrugged, "Details are in the gifts." It looked to the lieutenant and muttered, "or will be."

"If your kind are not the Infected, then what are you?"

"We are humans."

"Go on."

The commander sighed, "Our ancestors fled our original homeworld, Earth, before the Council found it. The records say we were led by the one known as Zeus who brought our ancestors to the garden world we call Dirt, which they made into a new homeworld. Since the landing of the original settlers we have spread and made homes in several systems."

"So what are you three doing on the Citadel?"

"Exploring. Seeing the sights. Learning about the neighbors. Getting some justice after one of our worlds was attacked."

"Justice?"

"Batarian slavers attacked one of our frontier worlds. We retaliated and discovered that the Batarian government authorized and funded the attack. The ambassador was one of many government officials that have evidence connecting them to the slavers."

"How many?"

"Very many."

Garrus sensed that he wasn't going to get much more on that particular topic. "You mentioned gifts."

"A history of our kind, which Fonteneaux here is working on…" said the commander, "and a few packets of medigel." The gunnery chief handed a small red pouch to the commander, who then held it out to Garrus. Garrus took the pouch gingerly as if he were accepting a live explosive and held it away from himself.

"Medigel is…?" he asked, glancing between the pouch and the commander with suspicion.

"The greatest medical advancement ever," the commander sounded like a salesperson, "it is a gel that heals almost all wounds and it works on all organics."

"We tested it," said the gunnery chief, "it even works on turians."

The lieutenant then said something to the commander whose eyes widened slightly.

"I need to go," said to the commander. Then it made a hand gesture.

Garrus's world filled with a burst of static, darkness and then a day long falling sensation that cut off with a short shock of color and then nothing.

******************** Scary Awkward Greetings: End *******************

Talk for reader:

Okay, made an OC because all of the other human crew that serve under Shep wouldn't cooperate with me. That, and biotics are too valuable to waste on an exploration/first contact mission. So while a few biotics volunteered, they didn't get to go. At least now I have a character I can use to infodump on Garrus and y'all later.

And now I just realized I spoiled the existence of human biotics. Great.

Sorry if you wanted the name change... my sister really wanted the name to stay the same and held the ice-cream hostage. (If you don't know what I am talking about, don't worry about it.)

Yes, I named a planet Dirt. What else would I name it? It was either Dirt or Bob.

I did not want to spoil this but I also don't want you to freak out: Garrus is not infected, he will not be replaced by a Protoform/Infected. If you are wondering what happened in the last paragraph, Garrus got hit with a variation of neural shock, which stunned him and he fell to the ground, hit his head and got knocked out. In Shep and crew's defense, Garrus was looking to be troublesome so they couldn't just leave with him unsecured. I doubt they expected it work so well.

Made a cover on paint. An artist I am not.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: No Good Deed

Garrus returned to consciousness slowly. He heard voices, but he could not understand what they were saying. He knew he recognized one but he could not recall from where.

Then he realized the voices belonged to salarians, asari and the one he knew was the voice of Executor Palin. Then he noticed the headache.

Garrus wondered if maybe he drank too much last night because he felt like he had the worst hangover in his life. He was beginning to be aware of the light behind his eyelids, or rather, how the light was irritating his eyes through his eyelids. He realized he was laying down and on something hard, probably a floor. Maybe he had passed out on the floor of a bar again.

He moved his arm and covered his eyes with it. The salarian voices grew more excited. Garrus wished they would go away and let him lie here in peace on this nice, hard, cold floor. He felt he deserved it after those weird Protoform cornered him and tried to convince him they have a whole civilization… before hitting him with something that felt like it set his brain on fire... when did he go to the bar...?

Garrus groaned and sat up, and rubbed his eyes with both hands. One felt like it was in armor while the other one didn't. He opened his eyes. His right hand was missing its gauntlet. Looking up his arm, his saw that his right pauldron had been removed as well and his underclothes had been torn off exposing his shoulder which was covered in a layer of what looked like dried blood but was far too shiny. He rubbed it and it flaked off easily, and his shoulder did not ache from the touch. He rubbed it all off and found light scarring underneath instead of a bullet wound.

"So, you awake," a salarian voice said behind him.

Garrus turned around and saw a group of armed salarians, all of which he would bet his training on being STG, behind an active mass effect curtain. A quick look at his surroundings revealed that he was in a plain, white, unfurnished cell and the curtain closed off the only way in and out. He couldn't see either Executor Palin or any asari anywhere despite being sure he had heard them earlier.

"We were not expecting you to take so long to do so," the salarian at the front of the group said, "we were expecting you to wake in route or earlier."

"How long was I out?" Garrus asked as he stood up.

"Approximately ten minutes."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"Felt longer."

"Your healing was fascinating to watch, I have never seen flesh simply knit itself back together. It would be incredible if we could replicate it."

Garrus blinked in confusion. "So, none of you did this?" he asked, gesturing towards his shoulder.

"Your attempt at maintaining your disguise is amusing but pointless. We all know what you are, there is no reason to hide it."

"What?"

"Is it that you will not cease this façade until the truth is announced?" the salarian asked. "Very, well. We all know that you are a Protoform, though I believe you call yourselves 'Hyoo-mons,' yes?"

"What?"

"Really, must you?" the salarian sighed. "It was all in the datapad we found beside you. If you wanted to make diplomatic contact to begin paying reparations, there are official channels for that."

"What… are you talking about?"

"Reparations for the trillions of lives your kind have killed and the garden worlds you have ravaged. It is the only way if you want to avoid war with the Council. I imagine the Terminus may join in for your activities in their space as well. Divulging the secret behind your rapid healing would be an excellent start."

"I am not a Protoform," Garrus said.

"Your disguise is incredible. All of our scans say that you are turian Spectre Garrus Vakarian. I am personally curious how that works."

"I am Garrus Vakarian. I'm not a Protoform!"

"Turians do not heal from bullet wounds in minutes, only krogan and vorcha do. And Protoform, sorry, 'hyoo-mons.' You are not fooling anyone."

"This can't be happening. I must be having a drunken nightmare or something…" Garrus mumbled to himself.

"Your kind can become intoxicated?" the salarian asked cheerfully, "Fascinating! On what chemicals might I ask?"

Garrus resisted the urge to bury his face in his hand and simply stared at the salarian in disbelief.

"Not interested in telling? Oh well, then how about as a different question? Can you tell me about this world you call 'De-rt?' Clever of you to flee the Quarantined System before the Council could find it. I suppose that is how you managed to wreak so much havoc across Citadel Space."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh yes, you claim that those are a rogue group, and the reason you fled your homeworld. 'Ert,' you call it? Short, but I suppose you wouldn't call it any of the many words for "place where demons come from" like the rest of the galaxy. What does the name mean in your language?"

"I really, really don't know what you are talking about. Look, Captain Balak and his men are Protoform, not me. You got to locate them before they eat somebody…" Garrus started.

"Where is the captain? He and his men managed to completely vanish by the time we found you. We will give you something if you tell us where he disappeared too, and how."

"You think I know? I don't know! And I am not a Protoform!" Garrus shouted.

"You don't know? Shame, I was going to give you some texts on galactic history. Judging by the datapad you dropped, you are quite the history scholar aren't you?"

"I barely passed history in school, sorry."

"Your people's standards on the subject are that high?" The salarian brought a hand up to one of his ear holes. "Oh, you are still persisting in your disguise. Yes, Vakarian barely managed to pass his history classes didn't he?"

"I am Garrus Vakarian. I don't know how my shoulder is healed, but I am not a Protoform."

"How do you do imitate other species so well? You can mimic so much, and yet not enough. You somehow gain passcodes and other information, but you don't get everything, like tics and habits and preferences. Your physiology is an almost perfect match for those you imitate, but you have never have biotics no matter what you are pretending to be. Although according to the datapad, I suppose that is not entirely the case since it says you have biotics of your own. So, I would guess that your ability to consume other species has some similar utilities to the asari melding process, except eezo is not necessary. How do you manage it without eezo, I wonder?"

Garrus groaned and held his head in his hands from the image that popped into his head. He could have gone through life without that. Preferred it actually.

"Why don't you take your true form? From the data you left your true appearance is not terribly grotesque. Honestly, I believe most of the galaxy was expecting something that resembled a thresher maw or an amphorous mass, not an asari."

"I am not a Protoform," Garrus said, tiredly.

The salarian sighed. "I suppose you are not going to speak the truth at this time. I'll come back later and see if you are more cooperative." Then the salarian turned and left with the others soon behind him, leaving Garrus alone in the plain, white empty cell.

********************No Good Deed: End *******************

Talk for reader:

Garrus is still not infected.

How is my grammar? Improved? Worse?


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Hope

It wasn't long before Garrus stopped being amazed that his shoulder was healed, probably because it was the reason why he was imprisoned. He lost count of the days that passed. The salarian and his entourage announced at the beginning of every visit that it was a new day before beginning questioning, though Garrus guessed he could be lying about that. He wondered why they were not trying to force the information they wanted out of him with torture, but he supposed the reason could be that no matter how badly they wanted to acquire information, they didn't want to be in a cell with what they believe is a Protoform to get it. Garrus considered his situation much more fortunate for that.

So, every supposed day he woke up to a thunking sound and found a tray with some type of dextro-protein food and water laying upon it beside a wall. He guessed there was a panel that opened to send in food and water somewhere on that wall, but he could not find the seams of the panel and whoever was sending the trays in would not open it unless he was looking in a different direction. Though, he was grateful that he was fed and that it was always dextro-protein food, as he would go into anaphylactic shock if it wasn't no matter what his captors thought he was. The trays were never returned and now there was a stack of them in his cell, and if he bothered to count them, Garrus would know how many days passed by.

After the food arrived, the salarian would come and begin questioning and always commented on Garrus's "determination to maintain a disguise." Garrus made a snappy comeback in return and then the interrogation began for the day. The salarian asked questions and made creepy comments, and Garrus asked for freedom and the only one who was happy at the end of it was the salarian who seemed to always be happy which was just not right.

Then Garrus was left alone, or rather was left the illusion of being alone as he was certain there were cameras watching him at all times. He filled those hours with exercising as much as he could in his cell, playing with the used food trays, pacing and sleeping. If he didn't get out soon, he feared he would soon begin talking to himself.

Garrus spent a lot of his time going over a mental checklist of what he needed to do as soon as he had his freedom. First thing he planned to do was get out of his armor. He had been wearing the same armor for so long and made use of the armor's waste system the whole time. The waste system of this particular suit compressed and dried out waste for storage until it could be unloaded into an appropriate waste disposal receptacle. Since it had been so long since Garrus had a chance to empty it, the system was probably overflowing, jammed and in serious need of cleaning if not replacement.

The second thing he planned to do was get a bath.

The third thing would be inspecting his armor to see if it could be salvaged through a thorough scrubbing or just replacing it. Garrus was considering replacing more and more as every day passed, but he knew after he got out he was just going to clean it and continue to use it.

The fourth thing on his checklist was tracking down that annoying salarian and punching him in the face. The salarian was probably STG and so this plan would probably get Garrus killed, but by this point he was honestly considering that it might be worth it.

Another "day" came by, a tray of food and a cup of water thunked into the cell and Garrus sat on the floor to eat it and the door outside his cell opened. Garrus told the salarian where to shove his head and just let him eat in peace.

"Is that what passes for manners these days?" asked a voice that was very much not the salarian's. Garrus turned and stared at his visitor in disbelief.

"Executor Pallin," Garrus was aware he sounded like a child who was finally seeing his father come home from tour in the Terminus, "You're here."

"You really got yourself into trouble this time haven't you?"

"Executor, they think I'm a Protoform."

"I know. I have been watching," said the Executor. Garrus's heart sank at that. "But you might not be. A Protoform has never been successfully captured before and I don't understand why STG is so determined to believe that one has been captured now."

"So you believe me?"

"I believe we could be mistaken," replied the Executor, which Garrus noted was not an affirmation. Damn.

Garrus sighed. "What can I do to prove I'm me?"

"Tell me about yourself. If your memories and reactions don't match up to your profile, then you are a Protoform. If they do match, then you are Spectre Garrus Vakarian."

Garrus rubbed his face. "I am Garrus Vakarian. I was born on Palaven. My father was Kaisarus Vakarian. He was a C-Sec investigator, a legend. I do my best to be a good investigator in his memory." Garrus sighed. "I was little more than a kid when I received the news. That he wasn't coming home." Garrus swallowed. He could remember getting the message on their private terminal. Just a formal and bland letter and his father was gone. It didn't even say how he had died, other than that he was on duty at the time. It was at the funeral where he learned the details. "He was on a case when he was attacked by a Protoform. He didn't survive." He made a soft laugh. "But neither did the Protoform. After my father died, I applied for Spectre training, but I applied for both C-Sec and the Spectres as soon as I was able."

"Tell me about your mother," said Executor Pallin.

"Dead. I was really little when she died, so I never knew her." Which was not helping his case in his opinion, but it was completely true and Garrus could only hope that the truth would bring him freedom.

"You file says you have a sister, what can you tell me about her?"

"My sister is Solana Vakarian. She's… still alive." Garrus remembered the last time he saw her. She looked so small, nothing like the big sister he had idolized for years. He remembered how her arms shook as she took a drink of water from a cup, spilling so much of it on herself. Garrus took a deep breath. "She's sick. Corpalis Syndrome. Ah, it's a neurological disease, degenerative. I pay for her treatments. Can I talk about… _anything_ else?"

"Tell me about your work and your friends," said the Executor.

Garrus grimaced and lifted a closed hand. "Friends… there is Chellick…" he raised one finger, "and Nihlus…" he raised another finger, "and that's it. I don't think Saren counts. He's Nihlus's friend, not mine."

"Why is Saren not your friend?"

"He… I don't know what it is but something is off about him. I feel like I should never let my back be turned towards him. But he trained Nihlus and he respects him so I put up with him when we meet up at Flux for drinks."

"What did you talk about the last time you and your friends were together?"

"We talked about Protoform. Chellick was trying to drown himself in liquor after his partner got eaten and Nihlus was giving me advice on how to kill them. Nihlus told me before I left to get a partner of my own. I am really regretting not listening to him now."

"Do you remember the last time I yelled at you?"

"I was in the C-Sec infirmary after we busted the Batarian Ambassador. I can't recall what was said, but I remember the pain medicine the doctors put me on was unusually potent."

The Executor sighed at Garrus's response. "Alright, I am going to go check your answers. I will be back shortly." At that, he left.

******************** Hope: End *******************

Talk for reader:

As much fun as that salarian was to read, he was a pain to write. If you liked him, I'll bring him back for round 2.

I couldn't find the name of Garrus's father anywhere so I made one up. It sounds like a dinosaur.

According to a hard to find page on the wiki, Solana is the name of Garrus's sister, not mother. Oops.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Poked and Prodded

Garrus wasn't sure if the time it took for the executor to return was the longest he'd ever experienced, or the shortest. Though, he was certain his internal clock was completely askew from his time imprisoned so that may have had something to do with his confusion.

Then the executor returned with a group of C-Sec officers and STG operatives. All of them were carrying rocket launchers. The annoying salarian who had been questioning him for most of his imprisonment trailed behind, waving around a datapad and talking about freezing and cutting, but thankfully stopped when they reached the front of Garrus's cell. The executor stood directly at the front of the group.

"Spectre Vakarian," he said, "You have proven enough that you are not a Protoform and are being released." The barrier wall deactivated.

Garrus sagged in relief. Freedom. He remembered freedom. It was far away from the annoying salarian and where he had space and where plants grew and he had to worry about being shot instead of being experimented upon. It was alcohol and making sure his weapons were properly calibrated. And varren pups and colorful nebulas. Spirits, he was so damn happy.

Garrus walked stiffly out of the cell and muzzles of all the rocket launchers followed him. He stopped in front of the executor.

"Spirits Vakarian, you need a bath," said the executor.

"That would… be _really_ welcome right about now," replied Garrus.

"It's a shame that is going to have to wait. STG is determined to examine your shoulder."

"Maybe my stench will punish them for the inconvenience."

The annoying salarian chose that moment to speak up. "Executor, we are not entirely certain that this man is Vakarian. A few questions about family prove nothing!"

"Family is one of the known topics of questioning where Protoform fail to maintain their disguise. Either they cannot steal older memories from their victims or they can only take a few memories and familial memories are usually not among them. They often invent familial information when they don't have it. And it is well known that Protoform usually have weak or exaggerated emotional responses." the executor retorted. "Vakarian answered the questions accurately and his reactions to the topics were genuine." The executor pointed to the C-Sec officers, "You and you, escort Spectre Vakarian to the infirmary. And you," the executor pointed to the annoying salarian, "stop trying to convince me to let you vivisect an innocent man!"

The infirmary was one of the best equipped Garrus had ever seen. Of course, his expectations might be lower than most since the best medical set up he had seen was the C-Sec infirmary and that was always distressingly short on supplies. This looked like something that he'd always imagined was what the nicer personal infirmaries for the wealthy were like. There were so many white, pristine machines, many of which he had no idea what their purpose was for and there was a salarian seated at a terminal who looked up as he entered the room.

" ." said the salarian and he gestured to a chair near some machines. Garrus blinked and sat in the chair. He was certain he had never seen or heard any salarian doctors like this one. He looked old with leathery tan skin, wrinkles, and had numerous scars on his face, a tattoo on his forehead and one cranial horn broken. He looked like a krogan in the body of a salarian. And he spoke really, really fast.

" . ' ." Was he going to be examined by a mad doctor on stimulants?

"Um, could you slow down a little bit, and maybe introduce yourself before you start poking me with odd instruments?"

"Slowdown?" the doctor looked shocked, "Hello. I. am. Doctor- nonono, Ican'tdoit. IamdoctorMordinSolusoftheSpectalTacticsGroupwellnotformuchlongerbutthisisapleasantwaytoendmycareer."

"Um. Okay. Doctor Solus."

"Just call me Mordin, it's faster. Now let me have a look at your shoulder." Mordin replied offhandedly as he pointed a large device that Garrus vaguely recognized as a high definition scanner. Then he pulled up his omnitool screen.

"Facinating. No tumors or scar tissue at all. No sign of wound ever occurring. All cells look normal. Area appears to be perfectly fine," said Mordin. Garrus didn't feel perfectly fine. In fact he was getting a little worried and he wasn't sure whether it was the word tumors or the fact that he was beginning to understand the doctor that worrying him more.

"What do you mean 'Tumors'?"

"Analyzed and tested small samples of medigel on various non-sapient organisms. Effects ranged from slow inefficient healing to small growths in the surrounding area. When it had any effect at all. Also, does not work on plants."

"Should I be worried about these 'small growths'?"

"Threat of cancerous growth appears to be minimal. Rapid cell division effect ceased shortly after application. Observation of test subjects indicates that cell division resumed natural pace. Mind if I get a tissue sample?"

"Go ahead. So what have you found out about –ow- the stuff so far?"

"Substance appears to be an amalgamation of nanomachine, biological and chemical technologies. Analysis is proving to be difficult as it degrades quickly after being removed from packaging." said Mordin as he observed the sample through a different machine, probably some type of microscope. "The cells appear to be entirely yours and the genes show no abnormalities. Your body may have purged the extraneous components of the medigel. I am going to need a stool sample."

"My suit is equipped with a waste system. You can have the entire contents." Garrus wondered if he was a horrible person if he was so happy to give his shit to STG, but beneath his relief he was pretty angry from being locked up for so long. Besides, it was for science.

"Excellent!" Mordin looked far too pleased by his answer. "Just leave the whole suit of armor here." Then he asked through his omnitool for a set of male turian clothes in Garrus size. Eh, he was probably going to replace the armor anyway.

"So, am I going to be alright?"

"Should be. Medigel appears to have had no adverse effects on your physiology. Can't do anything more. Suggest you inform the executor about your encounter with the humans. Also, suggest you bathe first."

Garrus thought that sounded like a plan.

******************** Poked and Prodded: End *******************

Talk for reader:

I am running on the theory that salarians tend to be like some smart people I know: when they get a conclusion they like in their head, they are very good at coming up with defenses for it, especially when they are wrong. I get this idea from how Mordin and other salarians defend updating the genophage for so long despite it being obvious that it is killing off the krogan. (Honestly, I also kinda think the salarian government wants the krogan extinct. They seem to have it pretty well set up for the krogan to slowly die off and be able to blame the krogan for their own extinction.)

The wiki's explanation of how medigel works doesn't seem to fit with how it works in game play. And while I am ignoring gameplay things like health bars and the like, I think I will go with the in-game ease of use medigel has. So, I am going with a different explanation of how it works to make it more "idiot" and "panicking under gunfire" friendly. It's a tissue regenerator!

I did some work on the previous chapter. Discovered Solana Vakarian is Garrus's sister, not mother. Oops.


End file.
